


Live With Courage

by alfie_bet



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Post Fate/Zero, The Mackenzies are only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 04:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20109337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfie_bet/pseuds/alfie_bet
Summary: "There was just one last thing he felt like he had to do, on his last night in Fuyuki."Waver is left some parting words by his king to carry with him.





	Live With Courage

He’d packed the night before, his plane ticket nestled safely in his wallet. The Mackenzies were sad to see him go, of course—real or not, he had become a part of the elderly couple’s family. They had made him promise to call them, maybe once or twice a month just to check in. He had agreed, of course, not wanting to disappoint them. 

There was just one last thing he felt like he had to do, on his last night in Fuyuki.

Waver had wrestled with the idea of taking a taxi to his location, but he thought there might be some sort of symbolic meaning in him walking. Each step forward was spent in quiet contemplation, his backpack slung over his shoulder as he walked. He thought of the walk back home after Saber had demolished the chariot. His feet had ached so badly not even halfway through the trek, his king having offered to carry him part of the way. 

It was funny. At the time, he’d been too prideful to accept the offer, but now he’d do anything just to touch him again.

The flat road gave way to the familiar incline leading up to the bridge. He adjusted his backpack, making the trek upward. Sticking close to the rail, his path was only illuminated by the passing cars that quietly made their way over the bridge. He nearly jumped when one of the cars hit a pothole, just one of many left on the middle of the bridge. Waver paused, staring at the cracks and crevices in the pavement—did anyone know that they were driving over the ground where two kings had stood?

No, he supposed he was one of the few remaining that would ever know that. 

Finally reaching his spot, Waver dropped the backpack from his shoulder, setting it onto the ground. He had brought a few things with him, not much—his wallet, a jacket, an envelope, and a book. 

He’d picked up Rider's copy of the Iliad when he’d been cleaning, giving it a once over before looking at the rest of his things. It was only later, when the Mackenzies were asleep, that he had noticed the envelope beneath. There was absolutely nothing interesting about it, save for the fact that it had his name written on it in penmanship that didn’t belong to himself or to either of the Mackenzies. 

Waver hadn’t opened it then. He couldn’t. Everything was still too fresh, and although he thought he was holding himself together well, he didn’t want to tear open the wound. He knew it was cowardly, but that’s what he was. He was a coward.

He wondered if his king would be disappointed?

But now, on his last night in Fuyuki, Waver was ready. He stood on the bridge, facing toward the ocean, envelope held in his hands. He didn’t want to focus on the fact that his hands were shaking as he carefully opened the envelope, keeping a firm grip on the paper in case the wind decided to carry it away.

With a careful breath, he unfolded the piece of paper, keeping his gaze steady despite the blurriness impairing his vision.

“Waver,” the young mage spoke aloud, trying to ignore the trembling in his voice, “...if you are reading this, then it can be assumed that things didn’t go as planned. 

> “I know that you expect an apology. I’m sorry to say it, but I don’t think I can give you one. I can just see your face now! The indignation! The way your eyebrows furrow, or how your lips press together. I’d love to see it.”

Waver sucked in a breath, running a hand down his face before he could bring himself to read again. He didn’t look like that. Stupid Rider.

> “While you were sleeping, I decided to write. I broke one of those pens while I was trying! That ink stains something fierce, I was worried I would get some on my shirt! It was fortunate that this was not the case.”

He laughed despite himself, almost imagining the other man hopping up, black ink smeared on his hand while carefully trying to wash it away and not wake him up. 

> “The shirt is yours, by the way. Hell, all of my things are. I honestly don’t care what you do with it all, but at least try playing a game or two? The new one I bought, it has a two-player mode! I had wanted to try it with you, but...well, here we are.”

There was a break in the note, with a few tiny pen pricks left on the paper. Waver could almost see him sitting at the desk, tapping the pen against the paper while he tried to think of what to write. He’d have to see if there was a blot of dried ink on the desk when he got back. 

> “...I wanted more time. Yes, I know, you know what my wish was, but...I don’t know, I think I just wanted more time just to...be. I can’t remember much of the end, you know. I don’t know how much those history books recorded, or how accurate they got it, but...well, I wasn’t me at the end. The day he died, I think I died with him.”

Waver frowned, brows creasing. Hephaestion. He had certainly read enough to know who that was. The man that had grown from being a childhood friend to being Alexander’s other half, the Patroclus to Alexander’s Achilles. Speculatively, even more. When he had died, it was said that his king had been inconsolable—fitting, then, that he himself had died the very next year.

> “Now, I want you to listen to me. I have one more request for you, Waver. Yes, I know, I’ve probably asked a lot of you already, but permit me one last thing. 

> “Live. Don’t waste the rest of your life as I did, grieving what I had lost. There’s an entire world out there to see, so see it! Find your own Okeanos, and chase after it. Never lose hope in finding it.”

He looked up, staring out at the horizon. This would be the second time he had been commanded to live. He had stared his king’s executioner in the eyes and declared it to be so. But to live for the sake of living? Waver supposed he could do that. If his king asked it of him, then he would. 

Waver glanced back down at the piece of paper, clutching it tightly.

> “I guess I said all that to say: you gave me life again. I wanted to conquer everything, and I still do, but every battle, every experience, every discussion we shared, and every time I held you in my arms—it healed me. I have no regrets.

> “Until we stand together again. Alexander.”

* * *

Waver didn’t move from his spot for quite some time, his hands at his sides. This was his last night in Fuyuki. He knew that, once he left this place, he could never go back to the way he had been before. Maybe, someday, he’d come back, but he wouldn’t be the same person. Despite the fact that he’d been ordered to live, Waver could confidently say that a certain part of him had “died.” 

Gone was the proud, sniveling child he had been. He had found his Okeanos—he would become a person worth standing by his king’s side. He would do this by his own power, and not by some broken cup. That was the path he had chosen, he needed only to take the first step.

Folding the letter carefully, he opened the book to place it back inside, only to notice one passage in particular underlined: “Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.”

He smiled to himself, slinging his backpack over his shoulder to walk back across the bridge, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon.


End file.
